Sound Spell
by samus18
Summary: A one-shot based on my first story, "Salut, la Belle." If you haven't read that, you might not get this, but maybe you'll enjoy it anyway. Synopsis: The Sheriff has a bit of insomnia, but soon finds a cure to his sleeping problems.


A/N: This is a one-shot based off my other crossover, "Salut, la Belle." Having written six hefty chapters about this couple, I've grown very attached to the pairing and wanted to keep writing about them. And what better way than to submit a one-shot?  
I've kinda been mulling over the irony of referring to the Sheriff of Nottingham as the "Sheriff," seeing as how he isn't one anymore. But I didn't like the idea of making up a name for him since he's too well-known as "The Sheriff" - it just didn't seem right. So hopefully you'll overlook the fact that he's still being called by his former title. XD  
If you haven't read the first story, you should know that Mason is a bear OC I made up for the Robin Hood world.

Sound Spell

It had been a long day for the former Sheriff of Nottingham.  
A steep order of tools had been placed on Mason early that day, and he and the Sheriff had set to work on crafting them. It had just about been all that the Sheriff had done that day. Breaks were infrequent and short, but the wolf had put his back into the task as best he could. He had been apprenticed to the large, grey bear for some time now, and so was duly prepared for such a challenge.  
Mason was mostly silent, too intent and focused on doing the job accurately, and so the two had shared little conversation.  
By sundown, Mason had called it a day. He wiped a rag across his brow and whistled. "Some order we got, eh, Sheriff?"

"Yer tellin' me," the wolf responded, massaging his sore arms. "Why that high an' mighty officer came by here ordering a slew of them tools is beyond me."

Mason shrugged a shoulder. "I guess they're in need of some gadgets for repairs within the castle. Don't worry," he said, nodding toward the Sheriff's sore arms, "we ought to be finished with the order in another day or two." He yawned and stretched his own tired limbs. "..And then we'll see a hefty payment..."

"Yeah, well, ' _a day or two_ ' can't come soon enough. I've had enough arm work in prison to last me a lifetime."

Mason shot him a look, then gave a hollow chuckle. "Yeah...I guess you have at that, huh? Well look on the bright side, maybe all those years of smashing rocks prepared you for _this_ job."

He nodded. "Too bad my arms can't tell."

The bear gave a legitimate laugh this time. "Well, I'm gonna clean up and head into town. Been wanting to hit the Frog And Peach."

"You do that. I think I'll aim for the Black Sheep tavern."

The wolf and the bear went their separate ways and spent the rest of the evening in relative comfort.

The Sheriff had enjoyed a good drink at the pub, but wasn't entirely in the mood to imbibe. Had he been able to have his own way, he'd have paid a visit to Belle, but he knew she was putting in extra time at the school and wouldn't be finished with her work until late.  
He couldn't help but shake his head and smile. Belle was one of the few people he knew who didn't mind putting in extra hours if it meant that reading material was involved. To be sure, history books were part of the list, but she'd also be going through literature, which meant fiction; her favorite thing in the whole world.

'Well, _one'a_ her favorite things...' he thought, taking one last sip.

Feeling restless, he tossed a few coins onto the counter and left the pub. The drink had helped soothe his weary nerves and muscles, but something in him was still revved and unable to completely relax. He was both irritated and intrigued by the fact that he couldn't seem to settle down, and after such a hard day's work, too. Perhaps a long walk under the stars would do him good.

A waft of cold air hit him in the face as he stepped outside the pub, but it was welcoming to his senses. The Sheriff enjoyed a good bit of cold air, and he readily sauntered down the cobblestone streets of Nottingham, nodding to a few acquaintances who had long left their personal grudge against him in the past. Others either moved away as he approached, or shot him dirty glares (which he deliberately ignored, much as he had when he'd been above them in the food chain.)

When at last he'd passed the last lonesome house, he found himself surrounded by trees, shrubs, and a long, lonely path that stretched on and disappeared into the dark. He walked along it for some ways, enjoying the silence and the intermittent sound of the wind rustling through the forest. Up ahead, he spotted the small hill that he and Belle were so fond of and decided to head to the top. Being inside the workshop all day had been stifling; a bit of cool, clear air would do him good, and might actually relieve the tension in his muscles.

The wind was always stronger at the top of the hill, and tonight was no exception. It wasn't so strong as to be overwhelming, though, and he strode about the top for a while, content for the moment not to be doing much of anything. He took in the night sky, brightly dotted with stars. He skimmed the dim outline of the forest canopy as it stretched further than the eye could see. The sound of crickets could be heard whenever the wind died down, and at times he even caught the occasional, faint trickle of the stream.

'What a day,' he mused, filling his lungs with the cold air. 'I sure won't be complainin' next time we have no business.'

He sat down in the tall grass and leaned back on the palms of his hands. It reminded him of the many nights he'd spent out in the forest with his posse in an attempt to capture Robin Hood. He'd never been much bothered about having to camp out in the woods, and anyway the times he'd had to do that were few and far between.

He thought briefly about his old enemy, marveling that there could ever have come such a time when he and the fox weren't at odds. Robin Hood and Maid Marian had returned to England after their honeymoon many years ago, and for a time had made their home in Nottingham. Robin Hood, amazingly, had not treated the Sheriff particularly harshly when the wolf had been released from his sentence. The wily fox must have sensed a real change in the Sheriff that even the Sheriff himself hadn't yet seen, and had (during the few brief encounters they'd shared) treated him with a respectful sort of indifference. The Sheriff had been grateful for it, for although he could endure enmity and scorn from everyone else, he didn't think he could handle a smug attitude from Robin Hood - inasmuch as the former outlaw would have had every right to display one.

Robin Hood and Marian had moved from Nottingham not long before Belle had arrived, and supposedly were enjoying their lives elsewhere in England - so the Sheriff was relieved of his former enemy's presence for some time now.

He lied back on the grass as his thoughts continued to drift. He thought of Prince John and Hiss, and the lowly positions they'd now found themselves in. The Sheriff wasn't too sorry for them; they'd gotten off very easily, all things considered. It was a miracle that King Richard had even granted them positions within the castle, however demeaning they were. But there was a certain sense in it, as Richard clearly didn't trust either his brother or the former advisor. He supposed the King figured it would be too risky to allow them to roam the streets like average citizens, especially as they'd already proven to be treacherous.

...Very unlike himself, who _had_ been allowed to live a relatively normal life. Was it some kind of testimony to the King's trust in him? It didn't make sense. Perhaps it was the fact that Mason had offered him a job, and the King believed that the stalwart bear would keep an eye on the Sheriff. Whether it was true or not didn't matter much to the wolf, as he was currently very content with his lot, especially since Belle had returned.

A small smile crept across his face and he closed his eyes.

Before he knew it, he'd fallen asleep.

* * *

He awoke with a start, and immediately jumped to his feet. He looked up at the stars, which had shifted, and he wondered what time it was.

'Criminitly, I ought'ta head back,' he thought as he hurried down the hill.

He saw the odd sort of humor in his hurry to get back home, as if he were some wayward youth who'd broken curfew. But in a way, that's exactly what his situation was. No matter what he did, he would always have a record on him and so knew that staying out too late would not look good for his character. No doubt Mason would be suspicious if he didn't show up soon.

As he hurried on down the path and into the town, he passed the guard's keep in time to hear Nutsy shout, " _Twelve o'clock, and all's well!_ "

The Sheriff wondered if Nutsy had the time right or if he was bellowing off an incorrect number again. _Some things never changed._  
Either way, he knew he had to get home; he was a free man, but not so free as to permit himself to wander the streets after hours.

When he approached the house, he saw that a faint glow was emanating from the cracks in the wooden planks. He strode up to the door, out of breath, and knocked.

"Mason, it's me," he said, making sure to keep his voice down.

Mason opened the door. "Where were _you?_ "

"Sorry, Mason…" He rubbed the back of his neck and he headed inside. "I'd been on a walk and made a big mistake falling asleep up on that hill…"

"So _that's_ where you were…" The bear, thankfully, seemed to believe him. "I was gettin' worried."

"Now you don't think I'd be off causin' trouble, do ya?"

He shrugged a shoulder. "I can only hope not."

The wolf shot him a glare, but Mason only grinned. "Now that you're back, I think I'll head off to sleep." He headed toward his room, but stopped. "Oh, Sheriff - don't worry about staying out late. I think you've earned the trust of the people by now. It's been over a year since...you know..."

The Sheriff lifted a brow. "And how 'bout _you_ , Mason?"

The large, gray bear regarded him keenly. "You've got my trust, too, Sheriff." He paused, and shook his head. "...Sure never thought I'd be sayin' _that…_ " He waved, and departed for bed.

The Sheriff headed to his own bedroom, which was really a small, spare room near the workshop that Mason had long ago converted into as nice a room as he could. It was humble, with a single bed in the corner and a patchwork blanket and limp pillow on top. Beside this was a small nightstand with a lantern on it. Some old books of Mason's were piled into a corner, along with a few wooden crates filled with oddments and tools. But the Sheriff had most of the space to himself. The room even had a small window overlooking the forest.

'Yessiree, it's been one heck of a day,' he thought and he pulled in the covers and tried to get comfortable.

Little did he know that sleep was not to visit him right away. He tossed and he turned, and he bunched up his pillow, but after twenty minutes, he was still wide awake. Frustrated, he heaved a sigh. He got out of bed and strode over to the window, hoping that moving around a bit would shake the uneasiness out of him.  
'I shouldn't have fallen asleep on that hill,' he thought. 'I'll be up all night...'

After a few minutes, he got back into bed and lied there for a while, letting his thoughts dominate what should have been a peaceful slumber.  
But then a notion struck him, and after mulling it over, he pulled back the covers and got out of bed for the second time.

He tiptoed out of his bedroom and into the main room of the house. Upon hearing Mason's snoring, he proceeded to the front door and left, quietly closing it behind him.

Nottingham was almost entirely asleep, except for a few night owls lingering about the streets. A few shops still even had their lights on (mainly pubs.)

He made the short walk to Belle's house, and was a little surprised to see her light on. He cleared his throat and knocked on the door. In a minute, she answered it with a look of open surprise on her face.

"Sheriff!" She exclaimed in a hushed voice. "Is everything alright?"

"Pardon me, missy, I hope I ain't disturbed you none. But you see, uh, I've been having trouble gettin' some shut eye, and…"

"Oh," she said, and her face and posture relaxed. "You had me worried. Well, why don't you come in?"

"You sure you don't mind?" He asked, as he stepped inside.

"Not at all. I was just doing a little reading myself."

"Mighty late for that, isn't it?"

"To be sure, but I've been suffering from a bit of insomnia myself." She headed into the main room with him. "If we're going to lose sleep, we might as well lose it together, hm?"

"Couldn't agree more." He took a seat in front of the small fireplace. The flames cast quivering shadows about the room, giving it a very soothing atmosphere. "How do you like your home here, darling?"

"I don't like it at all - I _love_ it. I couldn't possibly be happier here than I am." She smiled, and sat down in a chair opposite him.

He pointed to a book on a small table beside her chair. "Just what were you readin', if you don't mind my askin'?"

"This one is especially fascinating. It's called _Wind Walker_. It's about a wild woman of the woods who meets and falls in love with a prince from a faraway kingdom. But of course there's a lot more to the story than that."

He chuckled and settled more comfortably in his chair, folding his hands over his abdomen. "What's say you read some to me, then? Might help lull me to sleep."

She regarded him with mock-offense. "Oh, you think it'll bore you?"

"Why no, missy. It's just that the sweet sound of your voice relaxes me so."

She shook her head, but couldn't keep from smiling. "Well, why not." She opened the book. "I'll start at the beginning. I've got my place saved anyway."

She read the first few paragraphs of the story, and the Sheriff gazed at the fire as he listened.

At one point, she stopped reading and looked at him pensively. "You know, it's funny...this story is almost parallel to ours."

"Is it now?" He looked at her. "You haven't gotten far enough in it for me to figure."

"Well, you have the basic idea - two people from two very different kingdoms meet each other against all odds, and...well…" A blush appeared on her face. "I guess you know the rest…"

He stared at her, his expression softening.

Slightly flustered, she changed the subject, "Sheriff, forgive me, I should have asked you if you'd like some tea. I was just about to make some."

The smile returned to his face. "That'd be swell, missy."

She left the room to put on a kettle of water. She returned to the story when she got back, and after a short while the kettle was ready.

Her voice drifted over to him from the next room. "You know, that story...reminds me of a song that my mother used to sing, when she was around…"

"Does it now, missy?" He answered from the next room.

"It was a woman singing the song of her husband. I still remember it…"

He heard the faint rustlings in the next room as she moved around, getting their tea ready. Silence reigned for what seemed a long time, and then a song flowed into the room, faint enough so that it was almost imperceptible.

 _Wild roamed a bright-eyed lass_  
 _Swift her heartbeat, loud her dance_  
 _By sweeping waters and starry grass_  
 _Down the falls, by fleeting chance_

 _Tall and proud, my warrior be_  
 _His lance is burnished gold_  
 _Soft and low he sings to me_  
 _And then his voice rings bold..._

The song lapsed into a hum, and then into silence, in which the only sound in the room was the light flicker of the small flames in the hearth.

Another soft noise made itself known, and she stopped in the middle of her task to listen. Then a gentle smile spread across her face, and she walked into the main room.

The Sheriff's eyes were closed, his hands still folded comfortably across his abdomen. He'd fallen asleep.

She stood there a moment gazing at him. Then she fetched a blanket and gently draped it over the sleeping wolf. The light sound of his snoring blended in with the ticking clock and the gentle outside hum of the town.  
Belle had resumed her seat, this time on the sofa, and read another chapter in her book. But she couldn't resist the spell that the gentle noises were playing upon her, and very soon she, too, had fallen asleep.


End file.
